


To Consummate Our Love

by ASwornStark



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Mentions of Rape, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 16:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8630878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASwornStark/pseuds/ASwornStark
Summary: Jon meant to apologize, but she was still smiling at him and he only stole forward, decency forgotten, and cupped her face to kiss her softly. Her lips were soft and warm against his and the heat of their bodies mingled together as they pressed close. Sansa didn't look him in the eyes, staring at his chest alone as he ran his large hands across her shoulders. She didn't seem to mind the caress as he continued down her arms. And she finally seemed somewhat pleased when he laced their fingers together. “Are you sure you want this?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> My roommate sent me too many JonSansa clips last week.

Sansa married Jon Targaryen Snow a year after they were reunited. The match was easy for his aunt to make and Jon’s approval as well as Sansa’s made it even easier.

 

After the decision was made, the wedding was held, and the feast ended, it left Jon and Sansa in a new place.

 

The new place, of course, was their marriage chambers.

 

When they returned to Winterfell, Sansa took back her quarters from when she was young and Jon had moved into Robb’s chambers beside her. The emptiness of the castle left a deep-seated aching in both of their hearts and neither could take the chambers of the previous Lord of Winterfell. They resided comfortably—if a bit cramped now that their bodies were bigger—as neighbors.

 

With their marriage, though, it seemed only right to take the room they had avoided so long. Sansa hated the idea so much that Jon almost called upon builders to forge a new place for them to lie together. She'd softened over time, but only because she knew it was a waste.

 

The wedding went by in a blur and when they were stripped of their clothing, Sansa curled into Theon’s gentle touch as he draped his cloak over her bare body. He deposited her carefully and stood guard at the door while Jon came through.

 

“Hi,” Sansa murmured. She clutched Theon’s cloak around her to shield herself and the corners of her mouth turned up at Jon’s nakedness. “I guess the ladies weren't willing to give you something to wear.”

 

“No,” Jon said, “you're just lucky.”

 

“I always have been lucky, haven't I?”

 

Jon meant to apologize, but she was still smiling at him and he only stole forward, decency forgotten, and cupped her face to kiss her softly. Her lips were soft and warm against his and the heat of their bodies mingled together as they pressed close. Sansa didn't look him in the eyes, staring at his chest alone as he ran his large hands across her shoulders. She didn't seem to mind the caress as he continued down her arms. And she finally seemed somewhat pleased when he laced their fingers together.

 

“Are you sure you want this?”

 

“We've already done it all, Jon.” Sansa’s brow furrowed at him. “Do you not believe I want to be married to you after all these weeks?”

 

“It's not all done. I've not…we've not closed the book on this wedding yet.” As if to illustrate his point, his cock, which had been limp from all the eyes upon him, jerked ever so feebly in Sansa's direction. “We don't have to if you don’t want to.”

 

“You are my husband and you have every right—”

 

“I have no rights over you,” he insisted, “I am _yours_ to command however you see fit. If you do not want me I don't mind.”

 

“And how will our marriage be consummated, Jon?” She smirked, thinking she'd made a good point.

 

He couldn't help but smile in return. “If you love me as much as I have loved you, that is consummation enough. No one needs to know.”

 

She was quiet for a long time. Jon took it as her agreement and began to extricate his hands from her grip to kiss her goodnight. Her fingers tightened on him.

 

“Consummate this marriage, Jon.” Her voice was weak but he could tell she meant it. “Please…take me to bed.”

 

He sucked in a breath and nodded slowly. Sansa didn't seem afraid of him as his mouth found its way to hers again. Only Theon's cloak separated them and Jon eased her grip on it to let it fall to the stone floor. One arm wound its way around her waist and he drew her in so that her breasts were fitted against him comfortably. She gasped into his mouth and he drew away quickly out of fear. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

 

“Why did you stop?” she asked.

 

A chuckle rumbled low in his chest as he was reminded that he'd married a little wolf and he stroked her cheek. She closed the distance the next time, running her tongue along his lower lip and making _him_ gasp for _her_. His arm returned at her back and she took his other hand from its chaste position on her waist to cup one of her breasts. Jon felt her take a small step into him and then her thigh was brushing against him between his legs. He trembled when her hands traced his beard along his neck. Her fingers moved further down his chest, ghosting along his sides, and stopping on his hips.

 

Sansa sighed into his mouth as they rubbed together and Jon was surprised to find her wet and wanting. He couldn’t stop himself from hefting her into his arms, feeling her legs falter and flail before they twisted around his body and he buried his face in her neck. The noise she made as their bodies touched again could make him come undone before even entering her. Jon felt his toes curl and had to breathe hard to stop himself.

 

“Sansa…” he whispered into her skin. Her hips moved against him and he felt his cockhead dangerously close to her entrance. With one thrilling move from Sansa he could be sheathed inside his wife.

 

_Could._

He walked her to the bed in two quick strides and untangled her legs so that she fell to the mattress in a broken cry. She looked half murderous and half curious as he dropped to his knees before her.

 

“Come here, Jon,” she said, trying to sound demanding but mostly sounding unsure.

 

“I am yours to command,” he said, “and you have commanded me to consummate this marriage.”

 

She nodded fervently and he almost smiled at the desperate glow in her cheeks.

 

“But I know your past,” he added.

 

Her lips parted in surprise and he read fear in her face. “So you will not—”

 

His hands trailed her thighs as a promise to her that he wasn’t finished yet. “Of course I will, Sansa. I told you I would do whatever you asked. Nothing he has done to you has ruined you for me. You are perfect _to_ me and safe _with_ me, sweetling. I swear it.”

 

“Then come.”

 

“Not yet, Sansa. We will do what you want but only after I have done what I’d like with your body.” He kissed her knees when she flinched. “The things I’d like to do…they won’t hurt.”

 

The breath she drew in was shaky as she nodded in understanding. The breath she took after that…it was a different kind.

 

When Jon kissed her between her legs, flicking his tongue against her, she gulped in air harder than she’d ever done in her life. His eyes were alight with laughter at her face. Her jaw had dropped at his touch and her eyes went wide. He continued to please her, taking her hands that seemed determined to _do something_ and resting them on either side of his face. It didn’t take long for her to take advantage of this, gripping his hair so that she could anchor herself. Her legs squirmed and he coaxed her thighs to open more. As she spread herself for him, he watched from his position as her head fell back and her breasts rose and fell with her hard breaths.

 

“Jon!” she cried out once, only once, before her thighs clamped shut around his ears. Her body shook around him and he thought that if he was free of her death grip he might chuckle at her state. He felt each tremble of her body in his shoulders and it made him happy to know she was—for the first time—feeling pleasure from something that was _supposed_ to be good for her too.

 

He gasped for breath when she released him and he heard a weak apology when she gained her senses back. He could only laugh as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and climbed onto the bed to kiss her. She wrinkled her nose at her taste but it didn’t stop her from devouring his mouth. They rolled together until he was on his back and her warm cunt was pressed to him yet again. He was painfully hard as she ground her body down onto him.

 

“Sansa, wait—”

 

“What?” she whined.

 

“I wasn’t done, you impatient thing.”

 

He drew her up against his face with a sharp yank of her legs and licked her to orgasm a second time. She looked even more beautiful from his position underneath her as her body shifted above his waiting lips wantonly. After that, he pushed her to orgasm with his fingers, stretching her open for his cock. Only then, when she was a shaking mess of sweat and soft skin, did he roll her onto her back.

 

“What now?” she asked, eyelids fluttering.

 

“Are you too tired to continue?”

 

Her face grew murderous yet again. “I swear to you, Jon, if you stop I’ll never speak to you again.”

 

“You look awfully tired, Sansa…maybe tomorrow would be better,” he joked.

 

“It’s your fault I’m so— _oh!_ ”

 

His cockhead breached her midsentence, forcing the face that Jon loved on her. He stroked her cheek as he moved slowly. Her noises were pure pleasure after all the pains he took to prepare her and he felt a flash of pride at the thought. Sansa tangled her fingers in his hair as soon as he was inside her fully and their lips met as both of their chests heaved from the pleasure of being coupled.

 

Jon’s movements after entering her were strong and deliberate. The ache in his belly was already at its peak. They met each other with equal excitement, Jon pushing into her and Sansa pushing her body forward to welcome him inside. The rhythm they set made it easy for him to rub above her entrance and whisper into her ear about his love for her. She whimpered as his thoughts filled the air around them and made her feel…something beautiful.

 

Sansa peaked for her fourth time that night. At the first pulse of her cunt around him, Jon was shouting her name. He didn’t remember how many times he shouted or whether she called for him as well. All he knew was that he wanted her again tomorrow and the next day and the next. His hands slid over her, grabbing at her breasts and bruising her hips as he shook above her, trying to find purchase somewhere on her body. She caressed his face as her lower lip trembled from pleasure and he came to rest on top of her chest.

 

“How was that, wife?”

 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever remember how to walk.” She ran his dark curls through her fingers. “You may have to carry me to breakfast tomorrow.”

 

“Aye,” he agreed, “and I’ll sit you in my lap while we eat.”

 

“Jon!” she cried, giggling when his scruff tickled her neck as he kissed her chin. “You’re too much…I hope the wine hasn’t gotten to you.”

 

“I can’t be drunk on wine with the amount I had. More likely I’m drunk on you, Sansa.”

 

She liked the sound of it.

 

They settled back together and she sighed into his hair when she kissed the top of his head. His hand splayed across her silk-smooth belly and his gaze was set on her pale skin, wondering if he ought to tuck them in. He didn’t want her to catch a chill but he was reluctant to cover her up.

 

“Do you think my family was there? At the wedding?”

 

“You mean…Robb and your parents?” Jon asked slowly.

 

“I’d hoped they were,” Sansa murmured wistfully, “I want them to know we’re happy.”

 

“I’d say yes,” Jon says, placing a kiss between her breasts and feeling the hard bone beneath his lips. “Though I do hope they left after we closed that door. I don’t want to see Robb again when I die and have him punch me the first thing he does.”


End file.
